Funky Rock & Roll Romance
by nerdygrl
Summary: When Monica's Twihard bff, Carly, drags her to a 100 Monkeys concert, she bumps into and befriends The Jackson Rathbone. As their friendship grows, she wonders if she is ready for where their "friendship" seems to be heading. Is it too much to take?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fanfic/story/whatever the hell you wanna call it. So, please, go easy on me! :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Jackson Rathbone, 100 Monkeys, or anyone else in this story

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"Hurry up, Carly," I muttered under my breath. I'd been waiting in the pouring rain outside of the Mint for what seemed like an eternity. Standing under a small cardboard box sized amount of shelter, I kept my hand close to the wall, trying as much as possible to keep my cigarette dry. I took another drag and reluctantly shivered, feeling defeated by the chill. "It's been 20 minutes, what the hell is she doing?" I mumbled in frustration. I didn't even want to go to this stupid concert. There was another squeak in the hinges of the door. My heart sank with disappointment and my frustration rose when I saw another gaggle of tweens filter through, gushing about "how hot Jackson Rathbone's hair looked". There was a cluster of "ohmigods" and "like totally" before the tweens and their squeals of excitement faded around the corner and disappeared into the night. I was alone again. It was nearly silent other than the rain pounding on the concrete. My once flawless make-up was now melting and bleeding into what I could only describe as something resembling the Joker.

Finally, I forfeited my battle to keep dry under the complete lack of shelter. I quickly stubbed my cigarette into the overly littered ashtray to my left and turned to make my way back inside. I turned to the right heading for the bathroom to find Carly. Once I got there, however, I realized that all of the stalls were empty_. Oh, great!_ I thought. _Now, where'd she go?_ I stumbled over to the mirror, finally remembering how much I had to drink earlier. I turned on the cold water and attempted to wash some of the running make-up from my face.

When I was finally satisfied with my appearance, I left the bathroom to continue my quest for Carly. I stood outside the bathroom, collecting my thoughts. _If I were an obsessed fan, where would I be? I thought. _I finally decided that she must be trying to get backstage. Realizing the few possible places she could be, I stumbled over to the double doors leading to the main concert area. I reach for the handle and…._THUMP!_ I the door smacked me dead in the face, knocking me on my ass.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I shouted. "Watch where the hell you're going!"

"Shit!" said a male voice. "I'm so sorry, lemme help you up."

"It's fine, I got it," I mumbled rubbing my sore head. Despite my protest, I felt arms wrap around my waist and my feet clumsily dangle as I was hoisted up from the dirty floor. I dusted myself off and gave my head a final rub. "Yep," I said. "That's gonna leave a mark." I let go of my head and finally faced my swinging door assailant. It was him. THE Jackson Rathbone. The one every girl here was making such a fuss about.

"I really am sorry," he repeated.

"It's ok," I said hesitantly. "I'd have run into the door without your help anyway."

"You sure?" he asked. "At least, let me get you some ice for the swelling."

"Sure," I replied. "I guess." He led me through the double doors, careful not to be a repeat offender. As we walked, I just stared, sizing him up. _So this is the famous Jackson Rathbone…. I don't get it_, I thought_. I guess he's kinda cute in that dirty hippie kinda way but still…_

"Are you feeling dizzy at all?" he asked with the utmost concern.

"Please," I said, brushing off his concern. "My own clumsiness has made me immune to most pain." I heard a chuckle escape from his lips as he shook his head. As he led me to the backstage area in silence, he decided to finally pipe up and say something.

"So," he began. "I don't think I ever introduced myself. I'm—"

"Jackson?" I interrupted. "Come on, dude. I am at _your_ band's show after all"

"Huh… I guess you're right," was all he could manage."

"I'm Monica"

"Nice to meet you," he said smiling. Some more time passed in silence as we made our way through yet another door. Jackson was, yet again, especially careful not to hit my head again. "So did you enjoy the show, then?" he asked finally.

"It was okay," I said gruffly. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was really only tagging along with Carly.

"Just okay?" he seemed surprised and a little hurt. "Wow! I guess we should practice more!"

"No, it's not you," I defended. "I actually came here with a friend. She's the one who is obsessed with your band."

"Well," he sighed. "We can't please 'em all, I guess."

"I'm sorry," I frowned. "I can be such an ass sometimes. It was actually a good show. Not what I was expecting from Jasper Cullen, but good."

"Hey! I'm not on 'Twilight' duty!" he playfully argued. "Don't pull out the vampire card!"

"Sorry," I giggled. "I couldn't resist." I shrugged my shoulders. He chuckled again. I was growing fonder of his laugh by the minute. The more we talked, the more I could see why girls went ga-ga over him. The smile, the hair, those bright, playful green eyes, and not to mention the fact that he was so damn charming is no wonder why he made them all swoon. I, however, was still determined to stand my ground and not succumb to the Jackson Rathbone plague.

"So what about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"What do you do?"

"I teach"

"Oh, really? What do you teach?"

"I teach for a Special Needs Class"

"Wow, really? That must take a lot of patience"

"Yeah, at first, but those kids are incredible once you get to know them. It's ironic, but they end up teaching me a lot more than I think I could ever teach them"

"Somehow I doubt that. You seem like you got a lot to say"

"I do, but that's not always a good thing," I chuckled. "I got a mouth on me, and it usually gets me into a heap of trouble."

"Yeah, I figured that after your little episode. You swear like a friggin' sailor!" he chuckled.

"Well if you hadn't come barreling through the door like a damn Neanderthal we wouldn't be in this predicament, would we?"

"Ok, ok, you got me there," he laughed again. We finally stopped in an area with a mini fridge where he found an ice pack. He motioned to place it on my now swollen head, but stopped suddenly. "Shit, you're bleeding a little," he said. "I'll be right back." He left the room and quickly returned with a rag and a box of bandages. I sat very still as he cleaned my battle wound and made small talk. Not a moment too soon, I was cleaned up and good as new.

"Well," I hesitated, "I best be on my way. Carly's probably freaking out by now." I slowly made my way to the door when he called out.

"Hey, hold on a minute. Why don't you and your friend hang out for a bit?"

"I don't think you wanna do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, while I am not a crazed, obsessed fan, Carly is. I wouldn't wanna put you through that. She screams at an octave that only bats and small dogs can tolerate!"

"Well, lemme get your phone number, unless that would upset your boyfriend," he said sheepishly.

"Smooth, Jackson, real smooth, but sadly…. No boyfriend."

"Really? Why not?"

"Umm, because I don't want one? Why do you seem so shocked?"

"I don't know. I just thought someone would've snagged a girl like you a long time ago."

"Again, very smooth…" I giggled before turning to walk away. Jackson grabbed me by the arm and stopped me.

"Hey, wait," he said. "You never gave me your phone number."

"I never said I would…"

"Oh, well…uhhh, I…"

"Jackson, I'm kidding" I couldn't help but giggle. "Got a pen?" He reached into the pocket of his leather coat, pulling out a pen and handing it to me. I scribbled my phone number down on his hand and returned the pen. "It was nice meeting you Jackson," I said before turning to leave.

"Nice to meet you, too," he replied. I could almost feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the room. Just to make sure, I turned my head slightly as I opened the door leading to the concert area. When the door closed behind me, I pulled out my phone to try and call Carly. _She can't still be MIA_ I thought. I looked down at my phone to see that I had 12 missed calls and eight new text messages. _At least, I knew she was ready to go._ I finally found my way back to the double doors and a very impatient Carly waiting beside them.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you!" Oh, was she pissed!

"Me? I waited outside for you to stop being a stalker for almost an hour! I finally tried to come looking for you when some jackass smacked a door in my face."

"Holy shit! Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm good. Minor bloodshed, but all is well."

"So did you ever get to meet your 'Rockstar Gods'?"

"No," she frowned. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's get the hell outta here and finish that bottle of Captain at home." We walked through the double doors as I contemplated whether or not to tell her about meeting Jackson.

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So? yeah, I know it starts out kinda corny, I guess...

I promise it will get better!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Confessions

"So when's your big date?" Carly asked, one eyebrow raised. We were sitting in the kitchen reading magazines. It had been about a week since the concert and Jackson and I were habitually texting since the moment I left the Mint. Carly still had no idea that I had even met him, let alone planning on hanging out with the guy. I wasn't sure how to tell her without her flipping out.

"God, Carly, it's not a date!" Regardless of all of my protests, she constantly pestered me about "getting back in the dating scene". I didn't think I was ready for something that big, especially with a guy like Jackson. "We're just going for a few drinks. That's all."

"That's all?"

"Yes, that's all. Just the same as I would go out for drinks with you, or anyone else for that matter." I was trying my best to keep this meeting as casual as possible. I didn't want Carly or Jackson to think that this was anything more than just hanging out.

"So if that really is all," she began suspiciously, "then why are you wearing the tightest, lowest cut shirt you could find in your closet?"

"Girl, you know what they say…" I said, still trying to sound casual. "If you got it, flaunt it!"

"Well, you're flauntin' something that's for damn sure," she said as she reached for the remote on the kitchen counter. "So do I ever get to meet this mystery man of yours?"

"Not unless he tries to make a move. That'll scare him away for good." I winked at Carly and she stuck her tongue out at me.

"When are you supposed to meet him anyway?"

"In like 10 minutes."

"Then what the hell are you still doing here?"

"Fashionably late," I shrugged. "Actually, I guess I should get outta here. I still need to get gas." I grabbed my keys and my purse and headed for the door. I turn back to Carly and wish her a goodnight.

She replies, "Remember your curfew, and don't do drugs!"

"Okay, Mom," I giggled.

After I finally got gas, I realized that the drive was a little longer than expected. Finally, I made it to the bar where Jackson said to meet him. I stepped inside and my eyes were searching for Jackson. He was sitting at the bar with a flannel shirt, a cowboy hat, and the infamous cowboy boots. I rushed, almost ran, over to him with a million apologies spilling from my mouth like a leaky faucet. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry. I really didn't think it would take so long to get here. Then, I had to get gas….don't even get me started about that…"

He chuckled, "Monica, stop, now breathe. Better?"

"Ha Ha. You're soooooo funny!" I rolled my eyes and pulled out a bar stool to sit on. The process of climbing onto the stool was not quite as graceful as I would have liked. I looked up quickly to see if Jackson had noticed, and, boy, did he! He was staring right at me with that stupid, sexy smirk.

"Need some help there?"

"One of the benefits of being short: The world is my jungle gym."

He raised his glass to me and said, "Well, here's to looking on the bright side."

"I'd cheers with you, but no drink." I complained. "Where the hell did the bartender go?" As if cued by the word "bartender", he appeared and placed a napkin in front of me.

"What can I get ya, hon?"

"Double tall Jack and Coke?"

He disappeared behind the bar and returned with my drink. He set it down on the table and walked away. I picked the lime from the rim of the glass and a dropped it on the edge of the napkin under my drink. While taking a long sip of my drink, I looked up to notice Jackson staring at me. Again.

"What?" I have to assume that it sounded a little pissy, because that smirk he was sporting drooped into a half frown. I quickly tried to play it cool. "Do I have something on my face or something?" _Yeah, way to play it cool, Mon._ I thought.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I just wouldn't think of you as a Jack 'n Coke kinda girl." His southern twang was starting to come out a little more now that he was almost done with his first drink.

"Excuse me?" I said, shock written across my face. "Were you expecting something with a plastic sword or a pink umbrella?"

"Well," he began, "to be honest..."

"Oh!" I interrupted, "so, you think I'm one of _those_ girls."

"One of what girls?"

"Those prissy/ask 'daddy' for anything (and get it)/wouldn't dare get dirt under my nails/fruity drink sippin' kinda girls. Because, I will have you know-"

"Ok, ok, I get it!" he said, failing to conceal his snickering. "You can handle your whiskey. And not to mention probably kick any guys ass in this bar."

"Not to mention yours," I said with a playful smirk. "So, don't try anything funny just because I'm drinkin'"

"Scouts Honor," he said, holding up his right hand.

We sat at the bar joking and flirting until we realized that drink one was long gone. Drink two came and went in what seemed like the blink of an eye. We were waiting for the bartender to finish mixing drink number three when, suddenly, Jackson grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the four pool tables on the other side of the bar. All I could do was smile. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Wait!" I exclaimed in fake protest. "Our drinks!"

"You wait here, I'll get the drinks"

"Roger that!" I said, holding my hand to my forehead i military stance. "I got quarters, so I'll rack."

I watched as he walked back over to the bar. Then, hesitantly went over to the first pool table while digging quarters out of the bottom of my purse. As I was searching, it was then that I realized how badly I needed to clean out my purse. Putting that thought aside, I found enough quarters to play the first game and put them in the slot. The balls were released and rolled into the opening. I noticed Jackson walking back over juggling the drinks and what I assumed were shots. Suddenly, an idea struck in my mind and a devilish grin played across my face. I bent down in the most seductive way I knew and began plucking pool balls from the opening and putting them into the triangular rack. I looked over my shoulder as Jackson got closer to where I was, and saw him almost drop all of the glasses he was struggling with. After I successfully t"Pleased Jackson and racked the balls, I slowly, and even more seductively, rose from the spot where I was kneeling. Luckily, he had already set the glasses down on the nearest table.

"So," I began, "I racked, now you break?"

"Sure thing," he said. He turned back to the table and picked up the shot glasses. "But first, shot time...? I wanna see if you can really handle whiskey like you claim you can."

"Hell yeah! Just...lemme know if you need me to drive you home."

"Please, I mix whiskey with my cereal for breakfast."

"Whatever you say..."

We cheers-ed to nothing in particular and I downed the shot in one gulp. It burned my entire esophagus, but I was determined, in efforts to get my point across, to NOT use my drink as a chaser. I waited for an ample amount of time to pass before grabbing my drink and taking a long sip.

"So, how's your head?" he asked while I was mid-sip.

"Oh," I said raising my hand to my forehead, almost forgetting how we even met. "I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. I'll probably end up with another bruise before the night's over."

"Okay..." he chuckled.

The night and multiple rounds of pool went on, with me winning most of the time. After getting sick of losing, Jackson suggested we give up on pool. We stayed at the little table next to the pool tables and just hung out. The time passed so quickly that before we knew it, the bartender announced that it was last call.

"Guess that means we'd better call it a night," Jackson said facing me. "You gonna make it home okay?"

"Sure," I said, clumsily slinging my purse over my shoulder. I half-walked/half-stumbled toward the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Nice try," Jackson had a firm grasp on my shoulder and was pulling me back toward him. "Keys?"

"Ugh, fine," I sighed, hesitantly surrendering my keys. I turned again to walk outside. I desperately needed a cigarette and the warm breeze that waited outside the doors of the bar. I felt Jackson's hand on me again. This time, he'd grabbed my arm and flung it over his shoulder. "I can walk, ya know," I protested.

"Really?" he just looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, okay. You win," I let him guide me to the door. "Well, can I at least smoke in your car?"

"Sorry, kid," he said, opening the door and leading me through it.

"Well, in that case," I said, "gimme my keys back. I need a cigarette right now."

"Not a chance," he protested. "I can wait while you smoke outside."

"Fine, fine," I sat down on the curb and dug through my purse for my cigarettes and lighter. After what seemed like forever, I finally found both and lit my cigarette. I took my first drag and closed my eyes as the wind swept over my face. I leaned on the pillar next to me and smoked in silence. I felt Jackson sit down next to me and sigh.

"So much for handling your whiskey," he said smugly.

"Oh, no. I haven't thrown up or passed out yet."

"Well, to be fair, we never actually discussed the terms of this...bet?"

"No, no, no...you never said anything about a bet."

"Alright, relax. No bet."

I finished my cigarette and he helped me up and swung my arm around his neck again, leading me over to his car. He opened the passenger's side door and maneuvered me into the seat in a way that made me feel like I was on an episode of _Cops_. He slammed the door shut and walked over to the driver's side. He hopped in and started the car.

"So which way do you live?"

"I don't remember," I said, leaning against the open window.

"Well, do you have to work tomorrow? You could just crash on my couch. I live right around the corner."

"No work; tomorrow's Saturday,"

"Well, I guess it's settled then"

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**That was my feeble attempt at a cliff hanger. Reviews, good and bad, are always nice to wake up to. So, with that being said, review this muthafucka!**

**3mook**


	3. Chapter 3

**Finally Chapter 3 is here! It's a bit shorter than the last few...and hopefully a little easier to read. My apologies for the 2nd chapter. (I was a bit drunk when I wrote a good portion of it.)**

**Be nice! :)**

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Chapter 3: Morning Light

The next day, I awoke to bright lights and loud noises. I sat up and looked around, scratching my head. I noticed that there was a blanket half sprawled across a couch next to me, half hanging from a couch to my left. I gathered that I must have started on the couch and rolled off of it in the middle of the night. I really couldn't remember either way. I rubbed my head again and looked over to where the blinding lights were coming from.

"Good morning, sunshine!" I looked around and saw Jackson walking toward me with a coffee mug, and a glass of water and shut my eyes again.

"Ugh! Stop yelling!"

"I'm not yelling, you're just hung-over," he chuckled. "I have aspirin, water, and coffee. Pick your poison." He set them down on the table and I lifted my head and opened my eyes. My hands went right for the coffee. I sipped slowly, trying not to burn myself. I looked up at Jackson and he was sporting that devilish smirk of his again.

"What now?" I asked, swallowing the chunks that were fighting their way up my throat.

"I win."

"Win what?"

"You tell me, we never established the terms to this bet."

"Bet? What bet?"

"You swore up and down that you were a Jack Daniels girl. By the end of the night you couldn't even walk to your car, let alone drive it. So, what do I win?"

"Was there a bet? We never shook hands or anything"

"Okay, fine. No bet." He looked up and smirked at me again. "But, if there were a bet, what would I have won?"

I just shook my head and sipped my coffee in hopes that the caffeine would make my head stop pounding. Jackson chuckled and walked back over to the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"YES!"

"Eggs cool with you?"

I imagined myself turning an unattractive shade of green and replied, "No eggs. I don't think I can do eggs right now."

"Fair enough. Pancakes?"

"Only if you marry me!" It was good to know that in the midst of my hangover, I still had my sense of humor. He continued to fumble around in the kitchen and I reached for the aspirin that was still sitting on the coffee table in front of me. I flipped them over in the palm of my hand a few times. Man, I hated taking pills. The giant lumps in my throat had to be the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Nonetheless, I swallowed my fears along with the aspirin and washed it with a long gulp of water. I finally mustered up the strength to stand up. I realized that I must've still been a little drunk when I attempted walking. I stumbled my way over to the kitchen, where Jackson was working his magic over the stove. The aroma made me a little queasy. Not because I didn't want the pancakes, but because I was, yet again, hung-over; and also reminded of just how hungry I really was. I sat down in the closest chair and flopped my head on the countertop. Before long, the pancakes were finished and Jackson had placed a stack in front of me. I devoured them without a single word. When I was finished, I looked up to see Jackson staring with his mouth gapping open.

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone eat so fast in my life." His eyes were wide, gawking at the now empty plate as if hypnotized by it. I simply looked up at him and smiled.

"Thank you for the pancakes. They were delicious."

"You're welcome," was all Jackson could say. He chuckled once more and shook his head. He cleared the plate and set it in the sink that was next to him. "So do you have anything planned for today?"

"Actually," I began, "I have plans that I can't really break."

"Oh, well," he lowered his head a bit as he spoke. "I thought maybe we could hang out, but if you have plans…" He looked hurt, rejected.

"No, I want to, don't get me wrong. I have to visit my mother. It's kind of important."

"It's fine."

"But I won't be there all day. Text me later so we can hang out."

"Sounds cool."

"Shit what time is it anyway?"

"About 11:30."

"Shit! I gotta go. Plans later?"

"Sure thing. I'll text you or something."

I went back over to the couch and grabbed my purse and my keys. That's when it hit me.

"So, we have a slight problem. My car's still at the bar."

"It's fine. I'll take you back to your car."

"Thanks," was all I could manage.

"Just let me get my keys."

He went up the stairs and returned quickly with his keys in hand. I was waiting patiently, still clutching my purse and keys. The drive was awkwardly quiet, and Jackson hadn't bothered to turn on the radio. We finally made it back to the bar. He pulled up next to my car and turned the car off. There was yet another awkward silence.

"So," I said slowly. "Sorry I got so messed up last night."

"It's cool," he chuckled. "Happens to the best of us."

"Well, thanks," I smiled, "for the ride… And the pancakes."

"Sure thing. Have fun with your mom."

"I doubt it would be much fun."

"Why not?"

I was afraid to answer him. I didn't want him to know why it was such a big deal to visit my mother. "She's in a hospital."

"Oh, no, is she okay?"

"Not really, but she will be," I said, now frowning a bit.

"Well, okay, I'll see ya later, okay?"

"Okay, later." I left Jackson's car and got into my own. I pulled out of the parking space with a final wave and drove off.

…

I took a deep breath and opened the car door. I was now in another parking lot. In front of the hospital. I got out of the car and walked up to the tall glass doors. The sign above them read: Los Angeles Psychiatric Facility. Yes, my mother was in the looney bin. Another deep breath as I walked through the double doors. The woman at the front desk was disheveled and unwelcoming.

"Patricia Durden's room, please?"

"Room 1211. Twelfth floor, down the hall."

"Thank you." I passed the woman and walked towards the elevator. The elevator inched slowly to the twelfth floor. The meter counting the floors seemed to be mocking me. My throat was dry as I waited anxiously to get this visit over with. Finally, I heard a "ding", and the elevator doors slid open. I walked slowly down the hall. My heels clicked against the cold linoleum floors. I stopped. Room 1211. This is it. One last deep breath. It felt like ice sliding down my throat. I knocked lightly on the door. No answer. _Typical_. I thought, _She knows it's me._ I opened the heavy wooden door anyway.

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**So there you have it. Chapter 3. I hope you liked it. Now go and review. Tell me what I need to fix, OR stroke my ego a little. Either way, go review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so I'm a little unsure of this chapter. But, in my defense it has been so long since my last update, and I was just ready to get on with the next chapter. Sure it probably needs a little work, but I'm working with no beta here so cut me a little slack. Either way, reviews (good or bad) are much obliged! :D

Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Jackson Rathbone, 100 Monkeys, Twilight or anything else that may be mentioned throughout my story!

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Chapter 4: Hard to Swallow

I stepped into the dark room. I saw an empty bed in the corner, a television, and a desk by the window. There she was, sitting at the desk, hunched over and plain. She didn't belong here, and I knew she blamed me for being here in the first place. I flicked the light switch on and gently closed the door.

"Hey, Mom," I said, almost at a whisper.

No answer.

"I brought you some food."

Nothing.

"I couldn't stand the thought of you eating that awful stuff they serve here." I was starting to feel like I was holding a conversation with myself.

She didn't even look up. I slowly inched closer to her. When I finally reached her side, I slowly set the food down on the desk in front of her. Without a word, she reached her arm up slowly, and smacked the food onto the floor. Bits of coleslaw and macaroni flew in the air like confetti, then, scattered and fell to the floor like a thousand dead flies.

"Mom, you've got to eat something."

"I don't want any of your goddamned food!"

"You can't keep blaming me for being in here!" I cried in desperation.

"If you're going to give me another fucking speech about how this is all my fault, there's the fucking door." She sounded so dull and plain when she said it, almost cold. I choked back tears and spoke again.

"Well, next time you try and down a bunch of fucking pills, I won't bother to try and save your life." With that, I stormed out of the room, kicking the now empty food box to the side. I slammed the door with a little too much force, because when it finally shut, the entire wall shook and vibrated. I scurried down the hall and back to the elevator where I felt safe again. I frantically pushed the button for the ground floor. Then, I leaned back releasing my trapped tears, letting them fall with no dismay. The elevator came to a screeching halt, and the doors flew open. I rushed passed the secretary and through the glass double doors. I found my car, opened the door and rushed inside.

Finally, I was safe again, at least for another 2 weeks. I knew that, much like the times before, I would be here at exactly 12:15, the Saturday after next. That was the schedule set by the hospital; and that was the schedule I would continue. I would keep trying until she forgave me for calling the cops on her and sending her to this God forsaken hell hole. I was only 17, and I had no idea that she'd end up here. I had no idea about the things they'd do to her here.

One final deep breath; it's all over now. Then, I started the car and drove out of the parking lot as fast as I could. I reached over to my purse and dug for my phone. I noticed that I had a missed call and one new voicemail. It was _Jackson_. My heart did a flip-flop, like a fish out of water. I frantically entered my 4-digit password, and held the phone up to my ear.

"_Hey, it's Jay. I guess you're still visiting your mom. I hope everything's okay. Um, I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite to eat or something after you got out. Call me back._"

I jumped at the sound of his voice and almost dropped the phone. Why was I so excited to hear from him? I barely even knew him. Shaking the thought from my head I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I found Jackson's number. I pressed the green "send" button and held the phone to my ear, listening impatiently as it rang.

"_Hello?"_

"Jackson?"

"_Hey, what's up? I was starting to think you blew me off."_ I heard him laugh softly through the phone.

"No," I said smiling to myself. "I just got a little caught up with my mom." My smile slowly faded as the memory of this morning's charade washed over me.

"_Oh,"_ he said slowly. _"I hope everything's okay."_

"I'll be fine," I lied. "Did you still want to hang out?"

"_Of course. I'm assuming you're free now?"_

"I'm all yours." _Shit._ I hope he didn't take that the wrong way. "I mean I'm free for the rest of the day, yes."

"_Awesome, wanna swing back by the apartment?"_

"Sure, I just gotta go home and change. Then I'll be right over." I just realized that I was still in my clothes from last night and reeked of alcohol.

"_Cool, see you in a bit,"_ he said cheerfully.

"Okay, bye," and with that I hung up the phone and tossed it to the passenger's seat. I was suddenly anxious to see Jackson again. _Why was that?_ I turned the radio up to distract myself from my own poisonous thoughts, desperately trying to concentrate on the music.

I arrived at my house and quickly showered and changed. _Why the hell was I so anxious?_ When I was finally clean and free of the stench of last night, I deliberately slowed my pace back to the car. I was trying to calm my nerves. I still had the memory of my visit with my mother haunting the back of my head, and now I was actually nervous about spending the rest of my day with Jackson. I shrugged, assuming it was just the after effects of this morning's ordeal…._or was it?_

The drive to Jackson's apartment was a slow one. I needed just a little more time to myself to shake off the anxiety. If I ended up taking too long, I could always just lie and say that I got lost. Although, I knew perfectly well how to get to his house by now.

After I passed the bar from last night I pulled out my phone and sent a text his way.

_Hey, Jay. I'm almost at your house. See ya soon. -Moni._

Shortly after tossing the phone back in the passenger's seat, it buzzed again. It was a message from Jackson.

_Awesome, just come on in. The door should be unlocked. -Jay._

Once I got to Jackson's, I walked up to the door, slightly reluctant. I knocked lightly. Then, felt like an idiot for doing so. _He told you to "come on in", _I thought. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. I took a hesitant step inside and looked around.

"Jackson?" I called out.

"Upstairs!" I took my time with each step I climbed. When I finally reached the top, I faced a long hallway with a series of closed doors. _Which one, idiot? _I said to myself. As if answering my mental question, I heard rustling from the door at the end of the hallway. Warily inching towards it, I pushed it open and came face-to-face with a completely naked Jackson. Stunned, I stood frozen for a moment. Then, stammered and quickly tried to cover my eyes.

"I-I-I'm sorry! I just- You told me- 'Upstairs..'" I was completely speechless. Stupidly, I dropped my hand from my eyes. What was I expecting? That he'd have super speed and be fully clothed in a matter of seconds? It was then that I took notice to his perfect physique, his chiseled features, his, ahem, forbidden fruits. I quickly brought my hand back up to my eyes and tried to back out of the room. I was so over zealous with trying to save myself from further embarrassment that I backed right into the wall next to the open door.

"OW! Goddammit!"

"Shit! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Don't come any closer!" I was now shouting. My hand still covered my eyes. "Sorry I just- Jesus will you put some fucking clothes on already?" My fingered had showed just another glimpse of Jackson's bare chest as he was kneeling to my aid.

Still on the floor, I inched my way to the door. "I'll just, um, wait downstairs."

"Okay," he chuckled. "Feel free to make yourself a drink. Mi casa es su casa!"

"Right."

I rose from the floor, feeling a little befuddled, determined to keep from letting my hand slip again. I shut the door behind me and practically ran downstairs.

Fifteen minutes later, I stood with my half-empty drink in hand as a fully dressed Jackson bouncily strolled down the stairs whistling.

"Why are you all cheery?"

"I dunno," he says smiling. "I just am."

"Well, now that you're dressed, can we go?"

"Yeah, lemme get my keys."

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Uh-uh…it's a surprise.."

I looked at him hesitantly. "Oooookay."

"Don't worry, you're gonna love it." He held the door open for me, always a gentleman, and we strolled over to his car to begin our surprise adventure.

An hour later, Jackson parked his car next to a convenience store. He got out and ran around to open the door for me. I looked at him, wide-eyed and confused. He simply smirked and offered his hand as I stepped out of the car to follow his lead.

"The 7-Eleven? That's your big plan for all this great fun we're supposed to have?" I asked skeptically.

"No," he retorted, rolling his eyes. "We aren't going to the 7-Eleven. Just be patient and stop asking so many damn questions."

"Well," I whined. "Give me _something_. For all I know you could be leading me to some dark alley so you could have your own 'fun'."

"Just have a little faith," he chuckled.

He lead me across the street and through the row of tall buildings on the other side. Behind the buildings, was a boardwalk stretched along a seemingly empty beach. He stopped and faced me.

"What?" I asked.

"Close your eyes."

"What?" I repeated.

"Just trust me."

"Okay," I reluctantly complied and let my eyes flutter shut. Jackson took my hand in his and led me down the boardwalk. We walked along the boardwalk for what seemed like forever.

"Keep your eyes closed," I heard Jackson giggle.

"They are!"

"Fine, fine." He squeezed my hand a little tighter as he led me along. Finally, we came to a stop. And he let go of my hand.

"Can I open my eyes now?" I said, impatiently shifting my weight from one side to the other.

"Not yet. We're almost there." Then, he took both of my hands in his and, from what I could only assume, began walking backwards. "Okay, on three, open your eyes." We continued taking slow steps further down the beach. "One…"

He squeezed my hand one more time. "Two…" He came to a gradual halt. "Three!"

I snapped my eyes open and they instantly lit up as I took in my surroundings. The steps on the side of the boardwalk led to a beach carnival. There was a bright blue banner across the top of the steps that read "Winter Wonderland".

"Oh, my God!" I stared in awe. I was as giddy as a two year old at Christmas. "This is _amazing_!"

A wide smile spread from ear to ear as I took in my new surroundings. It had everything. The giant ferris wheel, the cotton candy machines, the roller coaster, everything was utterly perfect. Jackson followed silently, smirking at my inability to stifle my giddiness. As I walked around reveling in the glory of it all, I turned and saw what I'd been waiting for since I saw the place. _The Jackhammer._ A massive contraption, as tall as the Eifel Tower stood before me. The Jackhammer was a ride only suitable for the bravest and boldest of the human race. There were two long swinging metal apparatus with a metal cage attached to each. Two rows, intended for ten people each, were attached to the metal shafts. The shafts were attached to an axis in the middle that swung you around to the top and sent you plummeting to the ground. Of course, there is no way to explain it to make it sound safe, but it is the most exhilarating experience I have ever been through in my life. I ran over excitedly. Jackson's feet were planted on the ground as he raised his eyebrow at me. I turned to find that he was no longer trailing behind me and called out to him.

"Aren't you coming?" I practically yelled.

"What is that thing?" He gave me a quizzical, slightly fearful look.

"Are ya kiddin' me? It's the Jackhammer!"

"Okay, I've officially pissed my pants by the utter name of this contraption."

"It's fun I promise!" He took a few steps toward me and hesitated. "Come _on_ already. Grow a pair, Rathbone. The ride's not gonna kill you!" He slowly walked the rest of the way over and stood firmly beside me. "Do you want me to hold your hand?" I gave my best sarcastic weepy eyes.

"It'll help," he retorted. I reached between us and laced our fingers together. I couldn't help but feel a jolt of electricity flutter through me, but quickly shrugged it off. We walked hand in hand onto the Jackhammer and I turned to Jackson smiling brightly as he took one last gulp for air.

…..

That night I laid in bed utterly restless. I tried as hard as I could to focus on sleep, but all I could think about was the amazing time I had with Jackson . I couldn't wipe the persistent grin from my face. I reminisced on the look of shock, horror and fear on his face as he courageously survived the Jackhammer. The visions of us sharing cotton candy and watching children's faces light up when their daddies won them giant stuffed animals at the carnival games. I rolled onto my back and sighed. _Why couldn't I get him out of my mind?_ I sat in the darkness of my room for a while longer, pondering and slightly fearing where things were leading with Jackson. I finally decided to put my thoughts, as well as my body, to rest for the evening, and focus on sleep. I let my eyes flutter shut and pulled the covers up over my head and rolled on my side. After what seemed like decades of trying to stop thinking of Jackson, I finally managed to drift off to sleep.

* * *

So there ya go! I know, I know...not the best, hell, not even close, but it's been a rocky two months...so SHOVE IT! Anyway, once again rewiew it up!


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